


Josephine's Story

by pallasite



Series: Behind the Gloves [8]
Category: Babylon 5, Babylon 5 & Related Fandoms
Genre: Backstory, Bigotry & Prejudice, Canon Compliant, Crawford-Tokash Act, Developing telepathy, Discrimination, Employment, Eventual Happy Ending, Fix-It, Gen, Law, Origin of sleepers, POV Female Character, Pogroms, Propaganda, Psi Corps, Sleepers, Slice of Life, The Corps Was Right, The Psi Corps tag is mine, Violence, Worldbuilding, telepaths
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-10-05 00:14:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10293074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pallasite/pseuds/pallasite
Summary: “Let me get you a glass of water,” Athena said. “You’ll see – everything will be all right.”The man who gave Josephine the injection wasn’t nearly so optimistic.“Throughout history,” he said, as the needle went into her arm, “there have always been those who are so ashamed of what they are, who wanted so badly to integrate, to assimilate, to curry favor with those in power, that they would sell their souls, sell out their own, or even commit suicide. It’s not just telepaths – it’s a human failing, I believe.”“Excuse me?”“You’re trying to be better than those of us who wear gloves. You’re trying to separate yourself from me, to hold onto what I’ve been denied by killing what makes you special, makes you gifted. You’re ready to hand over your soul for an empty promise of acceptance from normals, and what you think you’re entitled to. But you’re a fool, because they will never accept you. There’s only one future for telepaths – in unity, honesty, and pride in who we are. In absolute mutual guarantee, despite our differences. That’s the Corps.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> What is this series? Where are the acknowledgements, table of contents and universe timelines? See [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10184558/chapters/22620590).
> 
> Josephine's story contains excerpts from _Dark Genesis_ , edited in a way similar to what I did in the reworking of _Legacies_ [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10219790). These scenes are in italics. Material has been edited, moved, cut, added etc. for clarity, though I have not highlighted my changes in red. These scenes are included in order to illustrate for readers 1) the canon history and 2) its impact generations later on Josephine and her family.
> 
>  _Legacies_ offers no explanation as to why Ivanova's mother felt she had to leave her family if she joined the Corps. This fic places Sophie Ivanova's story in broader context, and shows other (better) ways such stories can end.
> 
> And in case you need a shortcut, Sen. Lee Crawford = EVIL LBJ. He's basically what LBJ would be like if he lived in the future, and had an agenda to advance his career by stripping others of civil rights.
> 
> ABSOLUTELY no parallel is intended between Sen. Crawford and President Trump. These canon events were written in the 1990s. Sen. Crawford rose to power on the "unified Earth" platform of the Earth Alliance, the exact political opposite of nationalism, or putting the interests of one's own country first, which incidentally would have been much better for telepaths, because it would have "contained" the problem till cooler heads could prevail.

_June, 2115. Geneva.  
_

_Senator Lee Crawford of Texas, the once-hero of the Grissom Moon colony, and the newly appointed Chair of the Senate Committee on Technology and Privacy, loosened his collar and sprawled his lanky frame on the couch. With his aide, Tom Nguyen, by his side, they both watched the vid-screen as it ran through channels._

_Though elected on his science policy platform, Crawford was now lagging in the polls. Once the “golden boy” of the party, he was quickly becoming past tense. His latest bill had failed – the party didn’t want to spend more money on yet another probe to search for extraterrestrial intelligence. Every week, Crawford slipped more and more in the polls to his opponent, Dr. Hiroshito. To win the next election, he needed a change in strategy, and badly._

_The public wasn’t afraid of alien threats from the distant stars – they were afraid of threats much closer to home._

_The reporter on the vid-screen smiled and spoke up, in the replay of events earlier that day. “Senator Crawford and Senator Koya both serve on the Committee on Technology and Privacy. Tell me, gentlemen. Let us assume for a moment that this report is true – that there are among us those who can ‘read minds.’ What are the social – and political – implications of this?”_

_Crawford deftly deflected the question to Senator Ledepa Koya, of the Indonesian Consortium, a man twenty years his senior. Koya, what a chump. He’d wanted a seat on the committee, and Crawford, though from a rival political party, had granted his wish only the day before._

_Koya cleared his throat for the cameras. “Well, obviously, if this study is valid, it reveals a serious situation. Our daily lives, our respective cultures, our political systems, our legal systems – all are intrinsically dependent on privacy to ensure their very existence. The Earth Alliance mandates rights of privacy at the level of the nation-state, and at the individual level. This has been worked out in great detail, over the years, particularly as technology has made intrusions into privacy potentially deeper and easier._

_“I’m afraid if there are, in fact, telepaths, that we’re right back to square one. What technology can protect us against them? How can we detect them? How can we stop them? For that matter, how long have they been around? Imagine, each of you, the damage to your private lives if someone were to read your every thought, wish, notion. Now imagine governments and corporations hiring telepaths as spies. Or criminals who can easily stay one step ahead of the authorities. It could undermine the entire fabric of our global society. Yes, I think the Senate has many important questions to ask, if these findings are true.”_

_The reporter asked Crawford for a response._

_Lee scratched his chin. “I think my colleague is being a bit alarmist. Ledepa, it almost sounds like you're suggestin' witch-hunts.”_

_Koya’s face fell in horror and betrayal._

_“First of all,” Crawford continued, “their special abilities aside, telepaths are just going to be people. Your schoolteacher, your boss, your mother” – he smiled – “maybe even your senator. Just people like you and me. Not monsters. And they have the same rights and freedoms as everybody else. That said, they don't have special rights either – like the right to poke around in our heads. Still, let’s all just take a deep breath. I intend to start hearings on this as early as next week, beginning with a select panel of scientists whom we will recruit to see if these results can be replicated.”_

_Back in the office, Crawford smirked._

_“I told you he’d take the bait.”_

_Tom Nguyen looked from the screen to the senator. “How did you know Koya would fall that way?”_

_“Simple. We all know Indonesia has a lot to hide after the Transcom affair. Some don’t even think they should be allowed membership in the Earth Alliance, and it wouldn’t take much to get them out. So as a nation, they can’t like the idea of telepaths who might ferret out where the bodies are buried. But it’s more basic than that – I checked Koya out. He’s a believer.”_

_“Believer?”_

_“Yup. Ever read much anthropology? As late as the twenty-first century, people were still massacred over witchcraft scares. At one time or the other, belief in malicious sorcery existed among every people on Earth. There’ve been lots of studies of it – anthropological, psychological – but in the end, it all boils down to one thing. People don't like to think bad things happen to them for no reason. Somebody has to be responsible. God. The devil. A witch. Hell, in my home state, Mississippi, there was still talk about juju and such in some places._

_“I checked out Ledepa’s hometown – only ten years ago, somebody was arrested for beatin’ up a man he thought had hexed him. So I figured the belief is still hangin’ around there, and that Ledepa might have grown up with it. Turns out, I was right – he told me himself yesterday that some in his government have suspected for years that telepaths existed, but they had no proof.” He looked around for his tumbler of scotch, and grinned smugly to himself. “He doesn’t know it, but I spent the night before anonymously bringin’ that telepathy article to the attention of various Indonesians. Companies with much to hide. Reactionary but popular religious leaders. Anyone who might panic. It’s hard for the intellect to entirely reject something it learned when it was young.” He poured himself a congratulatory drink. “I played Koya. Made it seem I felt the same way, and would back him up all the way. Did you see his expression, Tom? If looks could kill, right?”_

_The scene switched, and settled on a newscaster in Indonesia._

_“...shot in Jakarta today. The suspect claimed that the victim was a telepath who had cheated him at poker. Several unsubstantiated reports of similar attacks have surfaced in the last hour.”_

_Crawford lifted his drink. “Here’s a toast to the future, Tom. Who needs aliens? We’ll find our scapegoats right here on Earth. And Koya will take the blame, while I’ll get credit for saving the world.”_

_The view switched to a street in Paris._

_“... only hours after a vidcast on the new report in the New England Journal of Medicine. He claimed his lover was a telepath who drove him insane...”_

_And from a town in Mexico:_

_“... apparently in response to the alarmist reaction of Senator Ledepa Koya to a recent journal article alleging proof of extrasensory perception. No deaths are reported, though one man was critically wounded...”_

_“It’s startin’,” Lee said. He turned up the sound._

*****

2229\. Chicago.

            _I’m finished._

Josephine Bennet, Esq. left the office in the pouring rain, and ordered a copy of Universe Today at the nearest kiosk.[1]

“Credit accepted. Identity confirmed. Please insert issue to be recycled.”

She swore and dug through her briefcase in the downpour, looking for the previous day’s newspaper. There was no sign of it – she must have left it at home in her rush out the door that morning.

_I’m finished._

She’d overslept, after a fitful night with little rest, and barely made it to the train on time. Closing her briefcase, she checked the nearest trashcan to see if someone had by chance tossed one away, and she could recycle that one instead, but all she could see in the bin were empty food wrappers and a half-eaten burger.

To hell with the newspaper, she decided. She had bigger problems.

“Please insert issue to be recycled,” the kiosk repeated.

“I don’t have it.”

“A service fee will be applied to your account. Do you accept?”

“Yes.”

“Express preferences.”

“Criminal justice. Law.”

“Stand by. Preparing personalized edition of Universe Today, your best source of information on events shaping the world around us.”

The kiosk charged her double. With a sigh, she retrieved her card and splashed her way towards the train station.

_I’m finished_.

She entered the Psi Corps office with trepidation, and sat in the waiting area, pretending to read her paper.

            _No one’s watching me_ , she reminded herself, as she self-consciously flipped the pages, trying to hide her face behind the broadsheets. _I’ll be out of here soon enough._

            She read the criminal justice section quickly – it was a slow news day. The rest of the stories that day were mostly negative, as usual. Locally, a shop owned by Narn was vandalized overnight, and police were looking for the culprits. A telepath had fallen to his death from the sixth storey of a building in the financial district, and the Corps was investigating. In EarthDome, a debate raged over the EarthForce budget. On Mars, someone had detonated a bomb and killed a bunch of people. Far away in space, there had been a recent escalation in violence by the Dilgar Empire, who had viciously attacked and destroyed outposts on many alien worlds.[2] So far, there had been no human casualties, but there were rumors that the Dilgar were preparing for a major war with their neighbors.[3]

            Josephine had no idea who the Dilgar were, and she didn’t especially care. Aliens were always making war with other aliens – it was difficult enough to follow Earth news, or even EA news, let alone news about what alien empires were up to. The Centauri and the Narn had been at it for centuries, with millions or billions killed. Earth had enough problems.

            A staff person called her name, and Josephine followed. A young East Asian woman named Athena greeted her. Josephine was reminded of the friendly receptionist at the dentist’s office – the one who knows that she’s not the one who’s going under the drill.

“I’m an attorney,” Josephine said. “I’m here for my annual test, so I can renew my law license. Let’s just get it over with.”

            Athena closed the door, and paused. “For someone who does this every year, you seem especially nervous.”

            Josephine sighed, and sat down. “I’ve always had some latent telepathic ability. Never enough to be registered, never enough to be a P1. Never something the office would have to know about.”

            “Do you think something’s changed?”

            Josephine looked at the blank white walls – _why were they always blank?!_ – and nodded, solemnly. The past several months  had been different. “Tell me it’s all my imagination.”

            Athena sat down. “What sort of law do you practice?”

            Small talk. If the test came back positive, she wouldn’t even be allowed to sweep the floors of a law office.

“Criminal defense. Ever since I was little, this is all I’ve wanted to do. Even the guilty deserve a fair trial. Don’t you think?”

            “I wanted to be a Psi Cop when I was little,” Athena said, with a wistful twinkle in her eye. “It always looked like such an exciting life on _John Trakker_.”[4]

Josephine had heard of the children’s show, following the life of a Psi Cop and his trusted partner.[5] Though the program had been produced in the Corps, a lot of normal children her age had watched it, too.[6]

Athena smiled. “I loved that show as a child, even if it wasn’t always realistic. I’m only a P6, so I was never going to be a Psi Cop, but it was fun to dream.” She laughed.

            Josephine shifted nervously in her chair, and Athena conducted her test. Josephine knew that something was wrong before Athena had said a word.

            “I have difficult news for you.”

            Josephine took a deep breath. _A rating._ She’d hoped and prayed this day would never come, but here it was. Her mind raced. “All right, hit me. What is it? P1? P2?”

            “P4.”

            “What?!”

            Athena nodded and kept talking, but Josephine could barely hear the other woman’s words through the emotional shockwave.

            She was given a choice.

            “The drugs? I have to,” Josephine said. “It’s the only way to keep my job.”

            Athena made Josephine watch a short vid about the benefits of joining the Corps.

            “I know you have to show me that, but I don’t want to be a business telepath. I’m a criminal defense attorney. I’ve made up my mind.”

            Athena reached out and placed a gloved hand reassuringly on Josephine’s arm. “You’re not alone. There are other lawyers who take suppressants.[7] A few months ago I met a charming young man who works in his family’s firm. Nothing changed when he got his rating – he went right back to work. And there’s another lady I met once at a seminar, fine woman. She got out of law school and founded a firm, and then in her early forties she developed telepathy. So rare at that age! She went on the drugs, and life went on. Her clients stayed. She does promotional vids for the Corps sometimes.”[8]

            “I think I should go,” Josephine managed, weakly.

            “Let me get you a glass of water,” Athena said. “You’ll see – everything will be all right.”

            The man who gave Josephine the injection wasn’t nearly so optimistic.

            “Throughout history,” he said, as the needle went into her arm, “there have always been those who are so ashamed of what they are, who wanted so badly to integrate, to assimilate, to curry favor with those in power, that they would sell their souls, sell out their own, or even commit suicide. It’s not just telepaths – it’s a human failing, I believe.”

            “Excuse me?”

            “You’re trying to be better than those of us who wear gloves. You’re trying to separate yourself from me, to hold onto what I’ve been denied by killing what makes you special, makes you gifted. You’re ready to hand over your soul for an empty promise of acceptance from normals, and what you think you’re entitled to. But you’re a fool, because they will never accept you. There’s only one future for telepaths – in unity, honesty, and pride in who we are. In absolute mutual guarantee, despite our differences. That’s the Corps.”

            He was still speaking when the world shut off.

 

[1] _Divided Loyalties_

[2] _Deathwalker_

[3] _Id._

[4] Gregory Keyes, Deadly Relations, p. 7, 9, 14, 17, 42, 68

[5] Deadly Relations, p. 7

[6] Deadly Relations, p. 42 ("a lot of normals watch vids, stuff like John Trakker")

[7] Tim Dehass. “The Psi Corps and You!” /Babylon 5 #11/

[8] _Id._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Josephine's story contains excerpts from _Dark Genesis_ , edited in a way similar to what I did in the reworking of _Legacies_ [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10219790). These scenes are in italics. Material has been edited, moved, cut, added etc. for clarity, though I have not highlighted my changes in red. These scenes are included in order to illustrate for readers 1) the canon history and 2) its impact generations later on Josephine and her family.

_The screen began splitting, then recording what it couldn’t show. The reports of attacks on suspected telepaths increased – ten, thirty – in less than an hour it was over a hundred. The violence became too bloody to broadcast._

_“Oh, my God,” Tom whispered._

_“Yep,” said Crawford, taking another sip of scotch. “Now people have a whole new thing to blame their problems on, something real, something tangible. Telepaths.”_

_“But you-“_

_“Me? Listen to the ‘casts. It's Koya that's gettin' the credit for this. This is going to get worse, and he's gonna be the guy who started it, not me. Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy, the little two-faced sumovabitch.” He smirked. “He’ll get credit for starting the killings, and the worse stuff that’ll come later. Me – people will remember I was cautious, tried to talk sense. They’ll see me as the one to pick up the pieces, and the guy who’ll protect them from the big bad telepaths, all at the same time. I’ll be a hero again. The next election will fall in my lap.”_

_“But Lee, those people are dying.”_

_“Tom, this was going to break, and they were going to die anyway. That’s life. Hell, this is nothin’.” He took a slip of scotch. “What you see now, this is just the crazy people, the ones on the edge. Most of these murders would have happened anyway, but under a variety of justifications. The people out doing this are lunatics, the fringe. The real mess is coming if the results are replicated and even the skeptics give the whole thing the nod. When the sane people believe it, the implications will really sink in.”_

_“This is ‘nothing’?” asked Tom. “The real mess is coming? The murders ‘would have happened anyway’? But Lee, you just told me you anonymously sent the article around, that you incited-”_

_“Tom, don’t lose sight of the goal. It’s our job to handle the damage, and we've got a jump on it. We can make it better. Now, are you gonna mope, or are we gonna get to work?”_

_Tom nodded, though his face was still troubled. “Work,” he said._

*****

            Josephine came home that night to an empty house. She could smell the chicken her husband Pierre was cooking, she could hear the sounds of six-year-old Sidonie playing with her toys on the living room floor, but nothing felt real.

            The Chinese vase sat in the same place on the foyer table, the oil paintings on the walls remained in place, even the mirrors reflected an image of Josephine unchanged since that morning. But she was no longer home, and no longer the same.

            There was no perfect metaphor for the sensation – everything had gone flat, two-dimensional, like watching a vid, or walking around with one eye shut.[1] Perhaps the world’s once vibrant colors had dimmed to sepia, the smells and sounds and tastes all crammed into dull beige. Or perhaps, she realized with a chill, the world continued on as before, and she’d simply been peeled out of it.

            “Mamaaaa!”

            The little girl ran over and wrapped her arms around Josephine’s legs, but Sidonie, too, had vanished. Josephine saw only a simulacrum of her daughter, an empty shell of the little girl she’d dropped off at school that morning. She knelt down and looked into Sidonie’s blue eyes, stared long and hard, looking for some trace, however slight, of the girl she loved.

            “Mama? What’s wrong?” Sidonie asked in French. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

            Josephine held her tight, the empty child she could no longer feel.

            Would this feeling last forever? Was her career really worth the price of never being able to feel her family – or anyone – ever again? How could she leave her family emotionally, mentally, spiritually?

            She wondered if she’d made the right decision – if the drugs were worth the price. Only a few hours had passed since the injection, and yet she already felt wrong. The Corps hadn’t offered her these drugs because she was sick, but just because she… was.

*****

_The reporter from Izvestia International raised her hand to ask a question of Senator Crawford._

_“I was wondering how you respond to Senator Tokash’s recent statement that you have mishandled the telepath problem.” Tokash, the viewers knew, was another of Crawford’s rivals._

_The senator’s face froze in a false smile. “Well, I was hoping we could chat a bit more about the hope and future of humanity before we retreated back to the Neanderthal cave of politics.” The senator deflected the question for a while before getting back on point. “As for the telepath ‘problem’, we’re dealing with the issue as sensitively as we can.”_

_“Some charge that you would make telepaths second-class citizens.”_

_"Yes, on the one hand – and on the other I’m criticized for not rounding them all up and throwing them into death camps. It’s easy to make sweeping and extreme statements. It’s harder to deal with complex reality. The truth is that we have to regulate telepaths, and at the same time we must respect their rights as citizens. I wish we could have avoided the regrettable incidents of the past few months, and I pray we've seen the end of them.”_

_“Regrettable incidents? Senator, over ten thousand people have been murdered. Riots in Chicago, spacings in Armstrong, a bombing in Utah, massacres worldwide-”_

_“As I said, regrettable.”_

_“Your opponents say that your ongoing hearings on the ‘telepath problem’ are only making the violence worse. Every day, you present the public with potential new abuses that telepaths could be committing against them, wild ideas that most people have never even thought of…”[2]_

_“Politics is a rough and tumble game, Ms. Bochs. Everyone has enemies, and those enemies are always allegin’ somethin’, no matter how ridiculous. I’m makin’ it worse, they say? Would they solve the problem by shuttin’ down the hearings? We need to have more discussion of the telepath… situation, not less. And more regulation, not less.”_

_“Senator, regarding your proposal for a specific committee on telepaths-”_

_“Yes. The Privacy and Technology Committee was a good stopgap, but telepathy is not technology. This is a special problem that needs special attention. I’ve proposed a Committee on Metasensory Regulation.”_

_“With all due respect, Senator, you just said that we must respect the rights of telepaths as citizens, but only two days ago you introduced legislation to ban telepaths from law, stock trading, competitive fencing, and other fields.[3] You would take away people’s civil rights because of harms they could, in theory, commit?”_

_Crawford frowned. “Such measures, though unfortunate, are nonetheless necessary. Telepathy is too powerful a tool – and a weapon – not to be regulated. What do you think the killings are all about? People are afraid, afraid that the person next to them might be reading their minds.”_

_“A weapon, senator? What proof do you have that these people have caused any harm to society at all? As others have already raised, these people have lived in our communities side by side with us for generations, and in some places, for centuries or more.[4] Nothing has changed, yet you allege our neighbors are secretly conspiring against us. If they have never been a threat before, why are they a threat today?”_

_“I’m sure there are many fine, upstanding telepaths out there,” he said. “But how can we know which telepaths can be trusted? How can I tell a good one from a bad one? When wiretappin’ was invented, Congress had to invent new laws to deal with that threat. As I said, I’m sure there are many good telepaths. And they will understand why this is necessary. It’s not about who they are, but what they are.”_

*****

            Josephine’s boss, across his desk, had turned a distinct shade of red. She could only guess what he was thinking. The world had gone dark. Life had become, she decided, a bit like watching footage of space battles. There was bright light, but all was silent.

            “How,” her boss was half-shouting, “could you put me in such a position?!”

            “I’m on sleepers now,” she reassured him. “You can calm down and let me get back to work. It’s all right.”

            “Like hell it is! How long did you just say you’ve known about these… abilities?” He spat the words.

            “A couple months, maybe?”

            “And you didn’t go right down to the Corps and get tested?”

            “No. There’s no law that says I must.” The Corps encouraged people to get tested, she knew, but couldn’t force her. The Corps had their own agenda, and it hadn’t been her own.

            “Oh, so you just ‘ignored’ it and waited till your annual test to renew your law license?[5] Is that it?”

            She looked into his dark grey eyes. “Yes. That’s the law.”

            “No. If there was ever any chance I was going to let you work here on those drugs, you’ve killed it. This is about your character.”

            “My character? I’ve broken no laws. I lied to no one.”

            “Don’t play word games with me, Ms. Bennet. If you’d developed these… abilities the day after being tested, would you have gone a whole year hiding them from us, following the letter of the law but violating every principle it stands for?”

            “And just what principle is that?”

            He didn’t answer her directly. “We all have our limits, Ms. Bennet. Don’t you realize that in the past few months, you may have done incalculable damage to this firm, and to the people whose lives and livelihoods we represent?[6] All along, you knew damn well that telepaths aren’t allowed to practice law, and you damn well knew why, too – or at least you should – but what did you do? Nothing. You didn’t get tested. You went right back to work as if nothing happened, and jeopardized everything we work for – even the justice system itself! And now you want me to trust you?”

            She stood up. He was no longer Mr. Baker, the imposing supervisor whose anger could strike her like a physical blow. She no longer felt anything from him. “Mr. Baker” was empty, hollow.

            “Let’s have it out,” she said, defiantly. “You have the gall to accuse me of violating people, privacy, principles, but I’ve hurt no one. I’ve done my job. I’ve faithfully and zealously defended my clients. If you are to accuse me of wrongdoing, Mr. Baker, then put it on the table. What are you accusing me of?”

            He sighed, like a deflating balloon. “Telepaths can’t practice law, that’s been established law for generations.” He seemed almost pleading with her now. “You know that. You are intelligent enough to understand why.”

            “I understand I am losing my job. Pretend I’m stupid and tell me why. What have I done?”

            “It’s not anything you’ve done, Josephine – I can’t prove whether you did or didn’t – but what you’ve become, what you represent. Plain and simple, it’s what you are.”

            Josephine’s breath caught in her throat. She defended men and women who had committed terrible crimes, but how could she defend herself against the charge of existing?

            She remembered with a chill what the man had said as he’d given her the injection. She’d come to believe that she could keep her job, if she gave them her soul. She’d agreed, but they’d taken her job anyway.

            No.

            “Ms. Bennet, it’s been a pleasure working with you, but your career here is over. Go join the Corps, or do whatever it is that you do. You’re only a liability to this office. I have no way to know what you may have done before they gave you those drugs, and God knows what someone may accuse you of, once word gets out. And not just you – me as well, as if I knew about all of this, winked and let you stay. How can I prove I didn’t?”

            “I don’t know.”

            “Exactly. I’ll only have to fire you later, once the scandal breaks. I can’t have even the appearance of a breach. The public’s faith in our firm is paramount. You’ve put everyone and everything at risk.”

            He demanded her resignation that same day.

 

[1] _Dust to Dust_

[2] Dark Genesis, p. 19

[3] Dark Genesis, p. 32-33. Within days of this press conference, the book contains the following exchange between Sen. Crawford and his ex-wife:

Alice: "And yet you _are_ specifically regulating telepaths - telepaths can't be lawyers, or stockbrokers, or Olympic fencers-"  
Lee: "Plenty of precedent for that. Specific exclusions were spelled out for the use of the radar tap, too, when it was invented." [sic? wire tap?]  
Alice: "These are people, not listening devices."  
Lee: "They are both, I'm afraid, which makes regulation all the more necessary."

 _Behind the Gloves_ returns to this later.

[4] Dark Genesis, p. 33 (a certain isolated group in Highland New Guinea is mentioned possibly to have had telepaths for as long as a thousand years), but see p. 34 (in 2115, it was speculated from genetic tests that the genetic marker for telepathy "emerged" less than a hundred years before), p. 160 (the telepath priest in a Vorlon-worshipping jungle cult describes the “beginning of time” (the formation of his cult) as May 11, 2055, implying that this was the time period in which Vorlons began tinkering with human genes).

And of course, only 70% of telepaths have this marker - there have always been telepaths who lack it.

Therefore, there were fifty years (in some places more than a thousand years) between when Vorlons began their tinkering and when Lee Crawford began his anti-telepath scare campaign - fifty years wherein everyone coexisted peacefully, with no problems. Crawford's assertion (and the eventual widespread belief) that regulation and segregation are "necessary" to protect society from telepaths is absurd. That canon doesn't present even one normal calling out this absurdity is corrected above.

[5] Inference. If telepaths are barred from practicing law by statute, and some telepaths develop their abilities after graduating from secondary school, then a system to periodically test lawyers for telepathy would have to exist.

[6] See Dark Genesis, p. 44 for similar rhetoric:

"Publishers Weekly, 6 February 2117

"In Senate hearings today, a spokesperson for Random House, Inc., alleged that telepathic literary agents may have done 'incalculable damage' to the publishing industry as a whole, urging immediate genetic testing of all licensed and aspiring agents, with stiff penalties for offenders."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Josephine's story contains excerpts from _Dark Genesis_ , edited in a way similar to what I did in the reworking of _Legacies_ [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10219790). These scenes are in italics. Material has been edited, moved, cut, added etc. for clarity, though I have not highlighted my changes in red. These scenes are included in order to illustrate for readers 1) the canon history and 2) its impact generations later on Josephine and her family.

_Senator Crawford looked around the press conference room, and called on a reporter from the Earth & Moon Today. From her accent, everyone knew that Hindi was her first language._

_“Senator Crawford, in response to your allegation that the murders have been caused by some… innate human fear of telepathy, Senator Banerjee of India has charged that the recent violence actually has its cause in a sustained campaign of misinformation, fear-mongering and scapegoating, and that you are responding to this manufactured crisis by proposing even more extreme and discriminatory measures. How do you respond?”_

_“I think Senator Banerjee is in no position to criticize my Committee – in case you missed it, that’s the Committee on Technology and Privacy. How much of his country’s economy has been built on cheatin’ on American patents, anyway?”_

_The reporter bristled. “I’m sure you are aware of the speech he gave in the Senate recently. India is proud of its progress in eliminating the injustices of the caste system, yet he said you are trying to reimplement it, this time based not on skin color, but on the nature of one’s senses. He vowed that India will never betray its citizens as you are doing. He said these people have been blessed, and he called you, well, ‘un-American’.”_

_“And I call him a hypocrite. Does he have telepaths working in his office? Is he, even, one himself? Human society is structured around secrets, around limited disclosure.[1] Success has always meant being able to navigate in that world, guess the unspoken, erect a facade. And now we find that there are people who have the inborn ability to simply cut through all that. Would you want to play poker with a telepath? Would you want someone in the stock exchange who could secure inside information just by being in the same room as the right person? Would you want to be sued, and find out the other side’s lawyer could discover anything at all in a deposition – even who you were sleepin’ with? Ms. Bose, no doubt you mean well, but you are sorely misguided. I am tryin’ to save telepath lives. People won't stop killing telepaths – and people they suspect of being telepaths – until they stop feelin’ threatened by them. That won’t happen without regulation.”_

*****

Josephine packed her desk, quit, and took the train home. The day’s events barely even felt real.

_To hell with Mr. Baker_ , she told herself. _I’ll find a job elsewhere. Why would I want to work for a man like that, anyway, now that I know his true colors?_

She blamed herself – if only she’d been tested months before, maybe she could have kept her job. She wasn’t certain, of course – Mr. Baker seemed to be paranoid of telepaths in his office. But it was easiest to blame herself – if the blame lay elsewhere, she didn’t know where it belonged.

The laws, she used to think, had been designed to stop bad telepaths, the ones who would use their abilities to manipulate, cheat, lie, and subvert the legal system. The Crawford-Tokash Act – the first statute to regulate telepaths – and subsequent regulation had been passed to protect the public from abuse.

Right?

To Mr. Baker, the mere act of being a telepath seemed to come with its own presumption of guilt, a presumption that was absolutely irrebuttable.

Maybe Mr. Baker had twisted the law, she decided. Maybe her dismissal had even been illegal, case law supported her, and she could sue. She imagined cross-examining him on the witness stand, and forcing him to admit to the judge and jury that he had no proof whatsoever that she had committed any form of misconduct – no one had even made an allegation – but he’d forced her to resign anyway, “preemptively.”

What an asshole.

Pushing out lawyers like her – that couldn’t have been the intent of the Senate!

She wondered what the future held for her on these drugs. She’d done some research on the “sleepers” – some people never reported any side effects, no matter how long they took “suppression therapy,”[2] while others felt tired, listless, or eventually, entirely numb. Materials produced by the Corps always seemed to downplay the potential negative effects, but there were several posts on the ‘nets about severe reactions, written by angry family members.

The train rattled on for twenty minutes. Two middle-aged women boarded and sat down close to Josephine, speaking in British accents.

“That Narn shopkeeper? He had it coming. Earth is for humans, and these damn aliens need to go back to their own planets. Some types just can never be trusted.” She shook her head. “It reminds me of the old joke, ‘how does a telepath feed a dog’?”

“How?”

“Very well, if you grind him up finely enough!”[3]

Her friend laughed. “Sarah, I thought that was about lawyers!”

“Lawyers, telepaths, Narn, what difference does it make? None can be trusted. Any day now, we’ll have the Dilgar on our doorstep, wait and see. This planet’s going to hell.”

The wheels rattled, and a chill went through her. Mr. Baker’s words echoed in her mind:

_It’s not what you’ve done, it’s what you are._

 

[1] The following paragraph is adapted from Dark Genesis, p. 34. The earlier part of this scene was added in order to show normal "pushback" to Crawford's agenda, especially countries like India, which canonically opposed telepath registration and welcomed telepaths fleeing EA countries that adopted the policy.

[2] Bester does not suffer the negative side effects of sleepers, even when on them for ten years. See Gregory Keyes, Final Reckoning, p. 248 (“And so he did, stood still while the needle pricked his arm and the sleepers went in, as they had for ten years now. He barely felt the stupid feeling spread. He had never had the extreme reaction to the sleepers that some did-the listlessness, the deeply drugged feeling. No, they left his mind pretty much intact, so he could be acutely aware of how crippled he was.”)

[3] See Dark Genesis, p. 45. DiPeso tells this joke on his talk show, watched by billions across the Earth Alliance.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Josephine's story contains excerpts from _Dark Genesis_ , edited in a way similar to what I did in the reworking of _Legacies_ [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10219790). These scenes are in italics. Material has been edited, moved, cut, added etc. for clarity, though I have not highlighted my changes in red. These scenes are included in order to illustrate for readers 1) the canon history and 2) its impact generations later on Josephine and her family.
> 
> The material here is summarized by me, though the quotes are directly from canon, as cited. Material has been added showing the voice of Crawford's opponents, which is missing from canon.

_The swift release of a genetic test for telepathy in the latter part of 2115[1] – even with the test’s substantial inaccuracies – accelerated the “crisis.” The killings continued at a steady pace – at times in massacres, but usually quietly, the murder of “undesirable” individuals.[2] Telepaths were beaten and left to die on the streets.[3] Hacked apart with machetes.[4] Refused medical treatment. Pregnant mothers went to have their fetuses tested, and many sought abortions when the tests came back positive.[5]_

_The genetic test also triggered a snowball of new legislation requiring testing, registration, and segregation of telepaths. In industry after industry – publishing, medicine, law, finance – those suspected of being telepaths were fired, or charged with telepathic “invasion of privacy,”[6] an allegation for which there was no recourse, because the only possible defense could come from another telepath._

_Corporation after corporation accused telepaths of subterfuge, of sabotage, of ruining their respective industries and causing incalculable damage. “Telepath hysteria” reached a fever pitch, and companies instituted mandatory genetic testing for all employees. Those with positive results – even without any evidence of misconduct – were subjected to layoffs, heavy fines, or other strict “penalties.”[7] Telepaths were hired to catch other telepaths.[8]_

_Tabloids ran sensationalist articles weekly, detailing salacious and horrific crimes supposedly committed by secret telepaths against their lovers, ex-lovers, bosses, ex-bosses, and anyone else the tabloid writers could imagine.  
_

_Invasion!_

_Violation!_

_Trespass!_

_Wire-tapping!_

_Theft!_

_Cheaters!_

_Peeping Toms!_

_Telepathic gang rape![9]_

_Senator Crawford took to the ‘casts and presented telepaths as helpless victims of senseless violence, proud to serve their society and make sacrifices for the safety of normals. They would volunteer to work for normals to catch the “bad telepaths” cheating in their respective industries, he said, and introduced the public to one woman who had become something of a celebrity for “turning in” dozens of people in the New York Stock Exchange for supposedly being telepaths. Others, according to Crawford, would use their telepathic abilities to rescue normals from burning buildings, even if they were seriously injured or killed in the process.[10] The more grievous the injury, the better – Crawford was fond of telling the story of one emergency worker who had saved normals from a terrible inferno following an earthquake, suffering third-degree burns over most of his body in the process, and only regaining his ability to walk after several months of rehabilitation._

_Model telepaths would unthinkingly die to save normals, he told the world. They understood service to humankind, including their duty to turn in others suspected of being telepaths and “cheating” the system, such as by not coming forward to be registered in the new worldwide database, for the good of humankind.[11]_

_“The president,” he told the cameras, “has given me the go-ahead to form a new government organization made up of telepaths like the ones you’ve met tonight. We’re all agreed that this is the best, most sensitive way to handle both the needs of telepaths, and of the world at large.”[12]_

_Crawford’s opponents – both in the Earth Alliance and in non-Alliance countries – called the new measures madness. Of all the real problems facing the world, they said, this was where Crawford, and many others in the EA wanted to devote limited resources – to the establishment of a new government agency devoted solely to tracking the lives of potentially millions of innocent people? The opponents compared the “telepath hysteria” to the Salem Witch Trials, and charged that the EA would be broke before Crawford was finished hunting his witches._

_Telepaths have always existed, Crawford’s opponents explained to the public on the daily newscasts – even especially strong telepaths seem to have been around for generations, with no harm to anyone. What kind of a country, what kind of a world would we become, they argued, if we regressed to the point where we take away people’s Constitutional rights not based on any real harm done, but merely on fear – the fear of the unknown, and of harm these people could potentially commit?_

_“We should take away all rights of politicians,” one commentator quipped. “We know the real harm they cause to the EA, every single day!”_

_But whatever they said, it barely had an effect on Crawford’s meteoric rise in the polls. None of the criticism ever seemed to stick._

*****

            The first few days of Josephine’s unemployment weren’t so bad. She searched the papers and ‘nets for job postings, and mailed her resume to dozens of firms. She spent more time with her family. She ran errands, and made repairs around the house. But she also did research.

            Mr. Baker, she learned, had been within his rights to fire her – courts across EA space had affirmed time and again that mere registration status with the Corps could be sufficient grounds for termination if the employer felt that the employee’s continued presence could be disruptive to the work environment. Both telepaths on suppression therapy, as well as telepaths below the Corp’s own P-rating cutoff, fell into this category. Their continued employment lay solely in the employer’s discretion.

            “I’m sure you’ll find another job soon,” offered Pierre reassuringly. “We have some savings in the bank. We’ll survive.” But as the weeks ticked by, and the bills piled up – mortgage payments, student debt – Josephine began to worry. Not one firm had called her back. She had contacted all of her mentors from law school and her internships, but they’d all backed out. Once they heard the story of her dismissal, they said they would “do their best,” and then did nothing at all.

            “I didn’t work my way through law school to become a stay-at-home parent!” she exclaimed angrily one evening. “I worked my ass off to pass the bar! All-nighters! Internships! A clerkship! I got good grades in school! Why won’t anyone even interview me?”

            Every day the resumes went out, and they all fell into the same black hole. It reminded her of stories she’d heard from clients who were released from prison, or on parole – once they had a record, no one would hire them or rent them an apartment.

            As the weeks passed, Josephine realized she wouldn’t be finding a new job easily – unless, of course, she decided to join the Corps. They’d give her a job immediately, along with benefits. They’d pay well, in fact. But there would be no more pretending. Everyone who laid eyes on her would know she was a telepath, from the clerk at the grocery store to Sidonie’s teachers. Would Pierre accept being married openly to a telepath? Would their families and friends ostracize them? And Sidonie – how would that decision affect her?

            There was no denying that her mother’s “illness” already had. Josephine usually spent her Sundays in bed, after the morning’s injection. Sometimes Pierre took her to the zoo, to the museum, to the park, to try to make it up to her somehow, or at least to get her mind off of things. Josephine, meanwhile, would lie in bed and feel sorry for herself. She’d lost her job, and no one would even interview her. Life had no color or flavor. She couldn’t feel her husband or her daughter. She’d never been a very religious person, but she felt that even God, too, must have abandoned her.

            By Tuesday, she would start to feel better – she would go shopping, she would do housework, she would renew her passionate job search. And then Sunday would return, and like Sisyphus, she and her boulder would roll right back down the hill.

            “Mommy, please come play with me. Please.”

            “Mommy’s sick today, Sidonie.”

            The little girl crawled into bed with her and took her hands. “Please play with me,” she begged.

            “I can’t. Go play with Papa.”

            Josephine knew that sooner or later, Sidonie would be old enough to know the truth, that the injections weren’t because she was sick, but were making her sick. She would be old enough to begin to understand what had happened. Then what?

            She felt she was teaching her daughter to be ashamed of her, because she was ashamed of herself. But what could she tell the child? How could a six-year-old understand what had happened? Josephine hardly understood it herself.

            The weeks dragged on. One night, when she couldn’t sleep, she decided to run a background check on herself.

            She woke her husband.

            “Look,” she said solemnly, in the dull grey moonlight, handing him a print-out of the report. “I’ve found the reason I can’t get a job.”

            He sat up and flipped on the light.

            “This is a standard background check,” she said. “Everyone sees this document – employers, landlords, creditors. It tells them whether you have a criminal record, if you’ve served in EarthForce and the circumstances of your discharge, your credit rating… But look.” She pointed to one field in particular.[13]

Registration with Psi Corps: Yes

            She thought back to the lawyers Athena had mentioned, back in the Corps office. One worked in his family’s firm – his own parents or grandparents hadn’t pushed him out, even though they had the legal right to do so. They’d probably shoved him in the back room with legal research, and put on a face for the public. The other lawyer had already established her own firm – she was her own boss. She was also much older than Josephine, with many more contacts and relationships in the field – as long as her clients didn’t take their business elsewhere, she could weather the storm.[14]

            Athena had told Josephine that that woman now made promotional videos for the Corps. Was she paid to give the normal public a – mostly – false positive impression about life on sleepers?

            “Everyone sees this?” Pierre asked.

            “Yes.”

            “And there’s no way to change it?”

            “No. I’m registered for life.”

            One more thing was now glaringly clear – Josephine and Pierre had to keep up their mortgage payments, because if they ever lost the house, they could wind up without a place to live. Landlords saw these same documents.

            Her thoughts drifted back to law school. She’d spent so much time focused on the “what” of the law, she’d lost sight of the “why.” Why did standard background checks disclose her registration status, even if she was on sleepers? All the Corps materials said that the drugs were to allow telepaths to continue their “normal” lives, to work “normal” jobs. But the reality was startlingly different.

_But you’re a fool, because they will never accept you. There’s only one future for telepaths – in unity, honesty, and pride in who we are. In absolute mutual guarantee, despite our differences. That’s the Corps._

            A new rage simmered inside her. “It’s like I’m some criminal!” she shouted. “I’ve done nothing to deserve this. And we can’t escape it – we could leave the US and go back to Paris, we could go anywhere, even all the way to Proxima III, and the same records would come up. Damn them! They’ve branded and blacklisted me.”

            “Who did? The Corps?”

            “Whoever came up with this goddamn system!”

 

[1] Dark Genesis, p. 33-34

[2] Final Reckoning, p. 242

[3] Dark Genesis, p. 48

[4] _Id._

[5] Final Reckoning, p. 242 (“They were killed one at a time, they were killed en masse and buried in pits, they were aborted when DNA testing revealed what they were as fetuses.”)

[6] Dark Genesis, p. 44. _Behind the Gloves_ takes a closer look at the new cause of action for "telepathic invasion of privacy" in later sections.

[7] Dark Genesis, p. 44 ("telepath hysteria" in the publishing industry as an example), p. 48 ("This is Clara Suarez. She used to be a stock trader until she voluntarily quit when she learned she had metasensory powers. She now uses her abilities for the International Trade Commission to find less honest telepaths still trading.")

[8] _Id._

[9] _Id._ _Behind the Gloves_ returns to the tabloids and propaganda in later sections.

[10] Dark Genesis, p. 47-48

[11] Dark Genesis, p. 47-50

[12] Dark Genesis, p. 49

[13] Inference. Registration status is public. Gregory Keyes, Deadly Relations, p. 46. (“He tried to picture himself, outside the Corps, a _later_ , raised like a normal. Say he was twelve when he got his psi-what would he do out there in the mundane world? Take the sleeper drugs? That way he could hide his abilities, keep leading the life he was accustomed to - except that normals would find out, through personnel records, or official files. He couldn’t get a job or even get housing without disclosing his nature, and the normals would still hate him, sleepers or no. Or he could join Psi Corps, get a free education, room, board, job placement, protection from mundanes, the company of others like himself.”)

[14] A lawyer in this situation makes an appearance in Tim Dehass. “The Psi Corps and You!” /Babylon 5 #11/


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Josephine's story contains excerpts from _Dark Genesis_ , edited in a way similar to what I did in the reworking of _Legacies_ [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10219790). These scenes are in italics. Material has been edited, moved, cut, added etc. for clarity, though I have not highlighted my changes in red. These scenes are included in order to illustrate for readers 1) the canon history and 2) its impact generations later on Josephine and her family.
> 
> The material here is summarized by me, though the quotes are directly from canon, as cited. Material has been added showing the voice of Crawford's opponents, which is missing from canon.

_Senator Lee Crawford loved the spotlight – he went on newscasts, he went on talk shows. In July 2117,[1] Crawford smiled for the cameras and thanked the popular talk-show host who’d agreed to stage his “meet the innocent telepath” circus act. “_ _Look,” he said, “the face of the unknown is the face of a monster, and for most people telepathy is unknown. It’s frightening. In our hearts, I think we all know that that doesn’t excuse some of the things that have happened – certainly not beatin’ this thirteen-year-old boy within an inch of his life, or shootin’ and choppin’ up the whole family of this sweet little girl here. Isn’t she an angel?”_

_The audience let out a collective “awww.”_

_“I wanted to show you the face of the unknown, so you can see that there is no monster, no alien, just us. Now, my committee has gotten a lot of criticism from both ends of the spectrum. I’ve been criticized for taking away the rights of telepaths – an untrue accusation – and for not being ‘hard enough’ on them, which I'm happy to say is true. They don’t deserve punishment simply for being born different. But they are different, aren't they – if not in most ways, then in this one special way.”_

_He clasped his hands. “I’m being long-winded, so I’ll try to get to the point, because I know you all want to hear more from the other guests tonight. The point is this: over the past year or so, I’ve met a lot of telepaths, and most of them have a strong desire to serve, to use their powers not for the good of themselves, not for the good of a single nation, but for the good of all humanity. To that end, I would like to announce that the president has given me the go-ahead to form a new government organization, made up of telepaths like the ones you’ve met tonight. We’re all agreed that this is the best, most sensitive way to handle both the needs of telepaths and of the world at large. What people are really afraid of is not telepaths, I’m convinced, but the fear of not knowing who is a telepath. Most of us don’t mind being naked, so to speak, but we don't want just anyone seeing us naked without our consent. The Metasensory Regulation Authority will prevent that.”_

_He blamed the ongoing violence not on the perpetrators, but on the telepaths themselves – unless 100% of them could be identified, tracked and regulated, he claimed, the public would never feel safe, and the violence would continue. It became a self-fulfilling prophesy. And yet his plan was riddled with problems – many telepaths didn’t carry the gene, and other people who did weren’t telepathic at all, or only minimally so. Every day, his critics charged, thousands of people who never imagined they might be “telepaths” would receive positive reports, and find themselves registered in the new database. Already, many of the early testers had been surprised at their positive results.[2] And most “telepaths,” said critics, would never come forward to be registered._

_“What does he expect us to do? Test everyone in school? At taxpayer expense?”_

_But Crawford was undeterred. “We can identify seventy percent of all telepaths medically,” Crawford told his billions of viewers, “but I think most people who know that they are telepaths will come to the MRA of their own free will, where they can be useful without fear of persecution.”_

_“’Useful’? To whom?” asked an outraged Senator Banerjee the next day. In the prior two years, he had become one of Crawford’s most vocal critics. “And without persecution? How does Senator Crawford define ‘persecution’? What does he think that word means? He proposes to take a minority, register them with the government, ban them from jobs, strip them of constitutional rights, and make them dress differently from everyone else – black gloves, for instance.[3] That’s not ‘persecution’? And when, in the history of humanity, have such fascist measures against a minority ever led to a  decrease in violence?” He compared Crawford to Hitler, the proposed gloves and badges to the yellow star – and then, much to the outrage of the United States, vowed again that India would never adopt any such law, and swore that his country would be a safe-haven for telepaths.[4] Several other countries followed suit in opposing the new EA laws – including the nonmember states of China, Amazonia, and the Russian Consortium.[5]_

_In private, Crawford scoffed at his critics, insisting that one day they would indeed give up their telepaths, because it was a human rights issue.[6] Humanity, he insisted, could never again be safe until all telepaths were registered and accounted for. Publicly, he still smiled for the cameras. “Of course, naturally there will still be some telepaths who want to continue with their normal lives. I’m happy to announce that Halotech has developed a new drug that shows great promise in inhibiting psionic abilities. It’s still in the testing stage, but it looks good and, once approved, will be offered as an option for telepaths who want to preserve a normal lifestyle._

_“The Earth Alliance is the first true world government, and in just over thirty years look what we’ve accomplished. We have thriving colonies on the Moon, plans to move on to Mars, and we’ve detected what might be the first real murmurings of an alien civilization. All it took for those things was a little faith, a lot of ingenuity, and sweat. It’s the same with the so-called telepath problem. In a hundred years, people will look back at this as the beginning of something wonderful.”_

_He spread his hands. “Of course, this is all pending Senate approval, so if you like what you hear today, I urge you to message your senator.”_

_Crawford and his party won the next election by a landslide. Despite vocal opposition from certain corners of the globe, the Crawford-Tokash Act passed the Senate with ease.[7]_

*****

            Sunday brought Josephine’s weekly visit from the Corps. Ordinarily, only one person came to her home, a Korean-American man named Allen with graying hair over his temples. Today, he had brought a much younger woman along with him, a Black woman with hair pulled back in a tight bun. Josephine wondered if she was an intern, or a new hire learning Allen’s job.

            He introduced her as Penelope.

            “A pleasure to meet you,” she told Josephine, with the nervous eagerness of a young employee.

Josephine wasted no time in telling the Corps representatives what she’d discovered in her records.

            Penelope nodded. “That’s the law, yes. Everyone registered with the Corps is registered for life.”

            “It’s Crawford-Tokash,” said Allen. “The telepath registration statute. They didn’t tell you at the center? They should have.” He stepped inside and pulled out his kit. “Now let’s get this over with. We have several other homes to visit this morning.”

            “No.” Josephine sat down. “I want some answers first.”

            The two representatives from the Corps looked at each other, knowingly – Josephine had no way to know what they’d just said under her nose – and the man went into the other room to make a call.

            “All right, what questions?” asked Penelope.

            “Let’s start with ‘why’?”

            There was no need to explain the context. “Oh, that’s an easy question,” she said eagerly. “They hate us. They’re scared of us. They’re jealous of us.”

            She was raised in the Corps, no doubt.

            “But you people said I could keep my job if I went on these drugs. I was fired. I haven’t been able to get another job. You lied.”

            “Who lied? I don’t know what they told you at the office, but we have no control over what normals do. We have to offer you the drugs, and the law permits telepaths to work as lawyers if they take the sleepers. That doesn’t guarantee you a job.”

            “Then you lied.”

            “We lied to you how? Because we couldn’t promise you that your boss wouldn’t be a bigot?”

            “You said I could keep my job.”

            The woman turned around, irritated, and started to leave for the other room to fetch her companion.

            “No, wait. I don’t want to take these drugs anymore.”

Penelope froze and turned around, her eyebrows raised. Josephine couldn’t feel her thoughts, but her expression seemed to say, _What luck! My first day on this internship, and already I’ve met a telepath who’s changed her mind and wants to join the Corps!_

Josephine told her how the injections made her feel – numb, living in a world of dulled colors and no joy. “I need to be there for my daughter. I can’t be, this way. This is living? This is a prison. I’ve been convicted and sentenced, but I haven’t done a thing to deserve it. My little girl cries every week when she sees me sick in bed. But I’m not sick.” She felt tears coming to her eyes. “Why are you doing this to me?!” she asked, desperate, her voice breaking. She could, at least, still feel anger. “Why are you doing this to my daughter?!”

She expected more excuses about the law, more “it’s not in our control,” more “that’s just the way it is,” some pitch about joining the Corps. But the woman took a few steps closer to Josephine, with something like pity in her eyes.

“You think we like poisoning our own people?”  The woman laughed, darkly. “Oh honey, no.”

            Something shifted in Josephine. The rep had admitted that the drugs were poisoning her. That wasn’t supposed to happen. She’d admitted it. She’d –

            “You know what you’re doing to me? Then you can stop. Damn the law. Tell the public the truth. You can protest the policy.”

            “Article II of the Psi Corps Charter forbids the Corps from engaging in political activity or activism.[8] Not overtly – and covertly is even worse. If you think they’re scared of telepaths as lawyers, well… they’re just as scared of us involving ourselves in politics.”

            Why, Josephine wondered, did this naive woman just keep quoting the law at her, like laws couldn’t be changed? Why did she stubbornly refuse to see that laws were made by people, and could be changed by people? “Then to hell with the Charter!” Josephine shouted.

            “Oh no, Josephine. You can’t join the Corps with attitudes like that, that’s not correct politically. If the Corps broke the Charter, war would break out between normals and telepaths,[9] and we would be annihilated.”

            What the hell?

“Protesting the policy would be a declaration of war?!”

She nodded. “Yes. They have a gun to our heads, so to speak. We have no choice. We offer the drugs, we follow their laws, or else they pull the trigger.”[10]

            Josephine was about to shout something nasty when Allen came back, and smoothly he picked up where Penelope had left off. He held up a gloved hand as if to say to her, “hold on, let me handle this one.”

            “Do you know what happened to us in 2115?” he asked Josephine, gently.

            She nodded. Unemployment had given her time to read. Too much. “Riots, pogroms, murders. Yes.”

            The more research she’d done, the more shocked she’d become that none of the history had been taught in school. It was as if normal society, ashamed of what they’d done to telepaths, had just covered up the whole thing, and refused to talk about it. No one grew up wondering why telepaths were forced to dress differently, why telepaths didn’t serve you coffee or deliver your packages or fix your car – the answer was obvious. They were telepaths. The had only one purpose – to be “telepaths.”

            But now that Josephine was one herself, the world had turned upside down. These people weren’t some alien “other,” they were people like she was. And half of them hadn’t even been raised in the Corps.

            “The violence never really ended,” Allen told her, “it just changed. If thousands of telepaths were killed on the streets today, the media would cover the story, and normals would look bad. So there’s a murder here, a murder there[11]… I’m sure you’ve seen it on the news.”

She had. The same day she’d been tested, in fact, the papers had mentioned a telepath who had fallen to his death from a skyscraper downtown, a death the Corps had been investigating as a possible murder.

“You only see the tip of the proverbial iceberg, when someone blows their top or goes out looking for a victim to rough up. The rest die quietly.”

            “Excuse me?”

            “You told my partner that the drugs you’re on make you feel… wrong?”

            Josephine nodded. He’d been in the other room, but he knew anyway.

            “There are many in the Corps that don’t believe that’s an accident. I’ve been in this business long enough to have seen it with my own eyes. Some teeps – telepaths, we call ourselves teeps – who are on these drugs for years succumb to depression and take their own lives. I’ve run some rough math. If what I’ve seen is the same throughout the EA, then every year, hundreds, maybe thousands of telepaths on sleepers are committing suicide. The media never notices or cares.”

            Josephine remembered the articles she’d read on the ‘nets about severe reactions to sleepers. They’d mostly been individual stories from family members, and most blamed the Corps for killing their loved ones. The stories were isolated cases, and rumors – but every drug had some side effects, she knew. Someone was bound to have a bad reaction eventually, and just because someone had posted something on the ‘nets didn’t make it true.

“I saw a few articles,” she said, carefully.

            “Well, I’ve seen it happen. Part of the problem is discrimination, layoffs, homelessness, and isolation from friends and family. And the drugs do take a toll on people physically and emotionally. That’s all real, and I don’t want to dismiss it. But there are those in the Corps who believe that the side effects are… intentional.”

            She thought about the conspiracy theories on the ‘nets. “The Corps is killing telepaths?!”

            His eyes widened in horror. “Hell no… normals are! Who do you think makes these drugs? Normal pharmaceutical companies.[12] The Crawford-Tokash Act was written to control us – socially, politically, physically, emotionally, mentally. Go read the Senate transcripts from 2156, when they established the Corps… they talk about the MRA as a government agency to regulate and control telepaths,[13] one created to turn us into useful ‘tools’ for normals. The transcripts describe the Corps as, and I quote, ‘a clearinghouse for locating, licensing, controlling telepaths for commercial, and some very restricted legal and military purposes.’[14] Josephine, it’s all there, in black and white. A ‘clearinghouse,’ Josephine, like we’re not even people, just another way for them to make a profit on us, dead or alive. And if we didn’t agree to the new Charter they shoved down our throats, if we didn’t agree to their rules, to their bullshit – pardon my language – we’d have been wiped out.”[15]

            The man who had given her the first injection had talked about suicide. Josephine had understood him to be speaking metaphorically. And perhaps he had been. Or perhaps, she now wondered, he had also been trying to say more, to warn her about things he couldn’t say aloud.

_Throughout history, there have always been those who are so ashamed of what they are, who wanted so badly to integrate, to assimilate, to curry favor with those in power, that they would sell their souls, sell out their own, or even commit suicide. You’re ready to hand over your soul for an empty promise of acceptance from normals, and what you think you’re entitled to. But you’re a fool, because they will never accept you._

            “Back in the beginning,” Allen continued, “telepaths got very sick from even a single injection of sleepers,[16] and that was never going to make anyone money, so they tinkered with the formula. Most of us on sleepers now live long enough to make them a profit.”

“No. Normals would never do that.”

“You’re a lawyer – go read the legislative history behind Crawford-Tokash, read the debates, read the newspapers. They would, and they did. They found a way to kill hundreds, perhaps thousands of us every year, make a profit, and get away with it for over a century. These aren’t ‘side effects,’ Josephine, they’re the point.”

            “It’s a rumor,” offered Penelope, carefully. “We couldn’t prove it unless we did something very illegal – broke into the company offices, scanned people, something like that. If anyone’s done it… well, I don’t know. We couldn’t change things, anyway. But we have our suspicions.”

“No.”

“Yes,” said the older man.

“Someone would have blown the whistle.”

“To save a bunch of teeps? Hardly.”

“They could never cover that up.”

“The tobacco companies covered up a whole lot more.”

“No, I mean-”

“OK, hypothetically. The normals – the drug companies and the politicians behind them – would only scapegoat us, as always. Back in 2117, Crawford had the audacity to blame the murders on us, on telepaths ourselves for not getting registered. Remember?”

She nodded.

“Those articles you read on the ‘nets… who did the families blame? The pharmaceutical companies? The Senate? The Crawford-Tokash Act for forcing us to poison our own? Perhaps themselves, the normal public?[17] No, they always blame us, the Corps. They blame the gun, not the gunman,[18] so they can continue to believe the laws are good and just, and so they can sleep well at night.”

Josephine’s mouth was dry. “But if this is all true,” she asked, “why can’t you go to the news? You can tell the truth.”

Penelope was shaking her head as if to say, _oh honey, no._

“If I went to the papers with what I just told you,” Allen said, “some very bad things would happen to me. You just have to trust me on that.”

“But-”

“The only people who can call it out are other normals. But you’ve read what they have to say about it.”

            Josephine sat slack-jawed. If what Allen said was true – and she could easily look it up – there would never be enough words on Earth or in the heavens for the anger rising in her breast. She could barely breathe. When she finally found her voice again, it was to call her husband into the room, for a chat.

*****

            Josephine knelt down to hug her daughter goodbye. She would be home for supper – the Corps had a training center in the city – but she knew that once she walked out that door dressed with black gloves and a psi badge, life would forever be different. Maybe it would be better, maybe it would be worse, but at least it would be life.

            The drugs would wear off in several days, and she would start to feel the world again. There would be color. There would be joy. She would once again feel the brilliant fabric of life, play with her daughter, enjoy intimacy. And she would never, ever take that feeling for granted again.

            “Why are you wearing gloves in June?” asked Sidonie.

            “Oh, you poor baby…” Josephine managed, tears rolling down her cheeks. “You are so innocent. So innocent. The world is so cruel.”

            Sidonie would no doubt face harassment in school. She would never be able to lead a “normal” life, even if she never developed telepathy herself. And if she did, things would be even harder. She tenderly brushed a blonde strand from Sidonie’s forehead, and kissed her. If only everyone could see through the eyes of children, she thought, there might be hope for humankind one day after all.

            “Why are you wearing those gloves?” the girl asked again. “You look silly.”

“I have a new job,” Josephine said sadly, but grinning through the tears. “But I’m not sick anymore, and I won’t be again. I’m healthy now, and stronger than I’ve ever been. I won’t let them take me away from you, Sidonie, ever. I promise.”

There weren’t any other promises she could make.

 

[1] This scene is adapted from Dark Genesis, p. 48-49

[2] Dark Genesis, p. 46-47

[3] A telepath in the MRA is said to be wearing black gloves in Dark Genesis, p. 80 (the year is 2134).

[4] Dark Genesis, p. 71-73 (telepaths trying to escape to India, "where they liked teeps, where they would look the other way"), p. 96-97, which takes place in 2134 (“Why [were the illegal telepaths trying to reach] India?” “Hmm? Because they give refuge to illegals. Though an EA member state, they aren’t signatories to the Crawford-Tokash act.”) Canon is not clear if India was an EA member state in 2117, but even if they were, they were clearly not signatories to the Crawford-Tokash Act.

[5] Dark Genesis, p. 53. See also Dark Genesis, p. 116, which takes place later, in 2256: ("The Chiapas incident made too big a splash. Japan, the Indonesian Consortium, Amazonia, and New Zealand are all threatening to pull out of the EA if President Robinson pushes further for a universal MRA.") Amazonia and the Russian Consortium have apparently joined the EA between 2117 and 2156 (canon doesn't mention when Japan joined), though these countries still opposed telepath registration. On p. 88 (which takes place in 2134), New Zealand is still not a member state in the Earth Alliance. ("I see. And so you consider, for instance, breaking into a private residence in Christchurch, New Zealand - a country with which the Alliance doesn't even _have_ an extradition treaty - and abducting four people to be only a little 'messy'?")

Countries that opposed the "world government" model (in whole or in part), and fought to retain their national identity and culture, stood on the front-lines in opposition to laws that segregated and oppressed telepaths. When the EA became "universal" in 2156 (the year the Corps was founded), there was no governmental structure left on Earth (or off-world) that could oppose the Earth Alliance regime, legally or militarily.

[6] Dark Genesis, p. 53

[7] Inference. See also p. 42-43 (Senator Vladmir [sic?] Tokash is himself telepathic. Crawford discovers this blackmails him into providing him (Crawford) with a list of all the other telepaths he knows, and supporting his anti-telepath measures). _Behind the Gloves_ returns to this later in the project.

[8] _Revelations_ (the Corps cannot involve itself in politics or endorse candidates for office). ( _Revelations_ : "Remember the big scandal about the Corps endorsing Vice President Clark?" "Sure, it was big news. Made all the nets." "Their charter prohibits recommending candidates to their members.")

[9] This is why the events mentioned in _Revelations_ , namely that the Corps had broken the Charter by endorsing Clark for president, are so significant. Other than a passing line about this event being "big news" back on Earth and making all the 'nets, canon doesn't explain _why_ this charter breach created such a problem. Indeed, as _Behind the Gloves_ returns to later, this charter breach is the first in a series of events that led to the Telepath War.

[10] Final Reckoning, p. 243

[11] See description of ongoing “isolated” incidents of violence against telepaths across the EA, as discussed in Final Reckoning, p. 242-243. ("Thank you. As I said, once telepathy was discovered, the murder of telepaths began. It hasn't stopped. I could draw your attention to last month's case in Australia, or the one reported this week in Brazil, but there really is no need for a list of examples, is there? Each of you know it's true. To grow up telepathic is to grow up with the constant menace of death, the vague but real threat of dying at the hands of someone who doesn't even know you, only knows what you _are_ , what you represent to them. _I_ grew up with it. The first time I left the academy grounds, to go on a hike with my friends, I was attacked. The _first_ time.")

[12] See Dark Genesis, p. 50 (in 2117, a normal pharmaceutical company, Halotech, invented the first generation of sleepers drugs). See Dark Genesis, p. 229 (circa 2188, a pharmaceutical company owned by Holden Walters, and apparently based in Seattle but with several facilities elsewhere, is producing sleepers “by the ton.” The Dexters and their associates bomb one of the plants). See Deadly Relations, p. 196-197. Circa 2256, Edgars Pharmaceutical is one of the drug companies that produces sleepers. (“A little more interesting was a profile of William Edgars, an up-and-coming billionaire in the pharmaceutical industry. Edgars was one of the contractors who produced sleepers, so anything concerning him was of interest. The article was typical Fortune 500 stuff, though - hobbies, carefully chosen political views, photos with the dog. When asked about business teeps, he seemed to avoid the question, an interesting thing in and of itself.”) Edgars’ hatred and fear of telepaths, and his plot to kill and/or enslave all telepaths through an engineered virus, is detailed in _Exercise of Vital Powers_ and _Face of the Enemy._

[13] JMS’ own words, July 17, 1994 (as quoted on a card in the collectable card game): “About 125 years or so ago in B5’s timeline (2100-2110 and thereabouts), full-blown telepaths began to be discovered. About 2150 or so, the government agencies that regulated and oversaw telepaths were rolled over into the Psi Corps, which became a clearing house [sic] for locating, controlling, and licensing telepaths for commercial, some very restricted legal, and military purposes.”

[14] _Id._

[15] See Final Reckoning, p. 243-244 (He paused. “This undeclared, unrecognized war has been fought for a hundred and fifty-seven years. Its casualties- have always been on _my_ side. And when this killing began, what did EarthGov do about it? They built a telepath ghetto called Teeptown, and they gave us badges to mark us, separate us. They gave any normal who wanted to kill a telepath the means to find us and identify us. Then they used telepaths to control telepaths. Why? The implicit threat was always there - ask any telepath old enough to remember. _Either you control yourselves, or we will control you_.

“That was the choice I grew up with. Hunt down and sometimes kill my own kind, with the blessings of EarthGov and every normal citizen who voted for it, or be subjected to the same uncontrolled genocide that was visited on us in the beginning.”

…

“Now, suddenly, you’ve decided that maybe Psi Corps wasn’t such a good idea, and you want to sweep it all under the rug. You want to pretend it just went bad, somehow, and that it was _my_ fault. You also know that isn’t true.

“You blame me for continuing to fight the war that started in 2115? You blame me for defending my people? I suppose you do. Psi Corps was developed to keep telepaths in their place. An act of war, of suppression. You want to know who the real telepathic Resistance was? It was _us_. Protecting ourselves against you.”)

[16] See Dark Genesis, p. 58-59. A low-level telepath named Mercy decides to take early-version sleeper drugs in order to keep her job as a secretary, but the drugs make her very ill. (“Mercy came back the next day [after the injection] like a dead woman. When Blood tried to touch her mind, she had to run for the toilet, and there she vomited for half an hour. Mercy curled on the couch, her normally lively eyes blank. She watched the vid with only sluggish interest. Tentatively, Blood scanned her again. She was reminded of Novocain, and also of heroin. It was as if Mercy only remembered being alive. She locked Mercy in her room the next day, called her boss, and told him that the injection had made her sick.”) On p. 229, Fiona refers to telepaths on sleepers as “zombies.” (“No one who had met one of the zombies the antitelepathy drug eventually produced could really imagine it was a legitimate option. Yet it was manufactured by the ton, wasn’t it? Normals watched their neighbors take the injection twice a week, without blinking.”)

[17] See Final Reckoning, p. 242-245

[18] Ivanova blames the Corps for her mother’s death on sleepers. See _Midnight on the Firing Line_ , _Eyes_ , _Legacies_ , _Divided Loyalties_


End file.
